Skip to main content

Where Healing Begins

I have a surgical scar from where a malignant cancer was cut out of me five years ago in two weeks. You could lay me bare on an examination table and never find it, though – it’s a scar of the soul. Yet despite being outwardly invisible, I still go to great lengths to make sure it stays hidden. The shame of it haunts me, overshadowing the miracle of grace the Physician worked in making me new, and chills my heart even as, in a strange paradox, I knit hats to warm the heads of patients with physical cancer.
It was a darkness, a secret, eating me up from the inside out, finally grown to the final stages where it becomes visibly obvious to even the strangers you encounter that there is something wrong, some dark force that is slowly consuming you, and I was all but numb. But God (that really is, I think, the repeating phrase in the Bible that encourages me most)… but God, by His love and grace, made me whole and wholly His. The healing of my spirit was so extraordinary that it extended into the physical – I felt lighter, my head was clearer, my outlook changed, a song and a smile rose more readily to my lips. I stood on the brink of new life and plunged in, wildly and gloriously free for the first time in a long time. But even when I spoke of hope, contrasting it with the darkness, I never gave the darkness a name so I could speak it. It was simply Darkness...
To continue reading, head over to Amber's place, where I'm honored to be a guest today!


Hi Sarah Jo, Thank You for having the courage to share your post "where Healing Begins" I have a similar story that God has been more like haunting me to write. I have struggle for years with trying to write it. (I'm not a writer) but still God insists. Unfortunately I have resisted being obedient for so long that I have fallen into addiction. I have prayed begged and pleaded with God to set me free but he just keeps saying (most recently thru your post) LOL that my healing and deliverance will come by writing my story. I don't know why I can't seem to get it out. I guess because I'd rather numb myself than to be brave enough to feel the pain! Anyway I just wanted you to know God spoke to me through your being brave enough to share part of your journey.
Sarah Jo Burch said…
Thank you for sharing this! I'll be praying for you <3

Popular posts from this blog

31 Days of Unraveling Designs

It's that time of year again... the 31 Days writing challenge starts today! Bloggers from all over will be writing every day of the month of October on the topic of their choosing. This will be my fourth year participating - the first year I did 7 for 31, and spent a month going through Jen Hatmaker's book 7. The second year I did 31 Days of Sustainable Dwelling, and wrote about local and fair trade living. Last year I was busy but still wanted to participate, so I went the easy route with 31 Days of Everyday Beautiful.

This year I'm diving into my greatest passion: knitting! I'll spend this month looking at past designs and talking about the inspiration behind them, so there will be plenty of regular life mixed in with the stitching - and there may be discount codes for the patterns that I write about. You'll just have to read and see!

Pattern index:

Pageturner Mitts
Hogwarts House Tie
Urban Artemis
Graffiti for Humanity
Love Out Loud
Strange Jacket


In order to change your knitting, you must first change yourself. I've lost track of how many times I've said that, or how many people I've said it to. Frustrated new knitters wondering why their work is loose or tight or uneven or really anything less than perfect. But something I love about knitting is that it's a record of your inner dialogue. That swatch knit at the yarn store table with a cozy cup of coffee and a helpful (and more experienced) knitter nearby is going to be a lot more relaxed than the sweater begun a week later while sitting next to a hospital bed - just like the knitter.

Unfortunately, this also applies to my own knitting. For years, I was apparently unaffected by the shifts and turmoils in my own life, so I assumed that I was exempt from the rule - when the reality was, in fact, that I wasn't really experiencing any of those on anything deeper than a surface level because everything was deadened by depression. When I finally started to really…


A few years ago, I was introduced to the concept of replacing the traditional list of resolutions with a single word. It appealed to me - I am not a big list person, but I love language and words and meanings and etymology and metaphor and... ahem. Ennyhoo. I liked the idea.
I've never chosen the word. It's always presented itself to me - and last year was no different. Pacific was very insistent, even though I tried to argue with it. Pacific? What does that even mean? What am I supposed to do with that?
But I accepted it, and I'm glad I did. I learned about depth and calm, about storm and nurture, about faith and adventure - and about the unstoppable ocean of God's grace, that overwhelms to fill and cleanse and bring blessings unasked.
So I'm bidding pacific a very fond farewell, and welcoming spark and whatever lessons it would like to bring. I invited it in with a copper wire punctuated with tiny lights and wrapped around my mood board, and I've got an empt…